Suddenly, it all fit. He recalled overhearing some of the guards discussing the girl’s unexpected arrival with Hereford’s party, and how she’d been locked up tight in one of the towers like some bloody princess who would be sullied by just breathing the same air as the vile Scots.
It had never crossed his mind that their guardian angel might be Clifford’s precious sister. No wonder Robbie’s enquiries hadn’t turned up anything. He’d asked about the half-dozen young serving women in the Earl’s party, not the ladies.
Their eyes met. “You said you would repay me if we ever met again,” she said.
Seton being the only one close enough to overhear, and the only one who would understand of what she spoke, he uttered an expletive under his breath.
For once he and his partner were in agreement. Robbie dropped his hand from her face and stepped back, not trusting himself. Something was building inside him that he didn’t recognize. A different kind of anger. A wild, frenzied maelstrom harnessed by the barest of tethers.
It wasn’t right, damn it! Why did it have to be her?The one good memory he had of that godforsaken time was now destroyed by the knowledge that his angel of mercy, the sweet young girl who’d freed him from that hellhole, was sister to the man who’d put him there.
“Release us,” she entreated, her soft voice tugging on a part of him long forgotten.
His conscience, damn it.
Damn her for doing this to him! For ruining everything. For making him indebted to a bloodyClifford. His mouth fell in a hard line, his fists clenching against the storm of emotions surging inside him.
He needed to think. But he couldn’t do it standing here with her looking up at him. Turning away from that expectant gaze, he started back to his horse. “Get them mounted up,” he said to Seton. “We’ll need to ride hard if we are to reach the gathering place in time.”
Norham wasn’t the only raid this day. Douglas and Randolph were waiting for them near Channelkirk.
He didn’t need to look at her. Her harsh gasp of disbelief said it all.
Seton was just as astonished but not as restrained. “You mean you aren’t going to release—”
Robbie stopped him with a glare that was probably as black as he felt inside. Just once he wished his partner didn’t have to question everything he did—or didn’t do. “Damn it, not now. Clifford’s men are probably right on our tails. If we don’t get out of here right now, we’ll be the ones who need releasing.”
How could I have been so wrong?
Rosalin watched him stride away and felt the last flicker of uncertainty in her go out. All the doubts fostered by years of stories and rumor had proved true. The cold expression on his face when he realized her identity, and his refusal to release them, left her no doubt that whatever good she’d once imagined in Robbie Boyd was long gone.
It was her worst fear realized. She’d made a mistake in releasing him, and her shame knew no end. She couldn’t bear to think about how many of her countrymen might have died because of her misplaced compassion. Because she’d thought she was righting a terrible wrong and couldn’t look away. The noble rebel that she’d created in her mind was nothing more than a merciless brigand without any semblance of honor.
After what she’d done for him and all she’d risked, he’d turned his back on her—literally.
Whatever vestiges remained of her foolish young girl’s heart crumbled to dust. Had she really thought the connection forged by one reckless act somehow bound them? Had she really expected him to release them because of some debt he’d probably never thought to have to repay?
She had. She’d never believed the man she’d watched could be so ruthless.
“What were you saying to that rebel, Aunt Rosalin? It almost looked like you knew him.”
Malcolm had released Roger, and he’d come up to stand beside her as the blond-haired warrior sorted out their riding companions. Rosalin hated lying to him, but she could hardly explain. “How would I know him?” How indeed. “I simply asked him to release us.”
“But don’t you know who that is? That’s the Devil’s Enforcer, Robbie Boyd. One of the most ruthless men in Scotland—and said to be the strongest. Father had him imprisoned at one time, and he would have been executed if he hadn’t managed to escape. He and Father hate each other. The Devil’s Enforcer won’t release us without exacting payment from Father.”
“I see that now,” she said quietly. “But I had to try.”
They didn’t have the opportunity to talk further, as the brigands had decided on their riding arrangements and they were separated. Roger’s hands were tied, and he was forced to ride with the warrior who’d first captured him at Norham. Fraser, she thought someone had called him. If he was part of that great patriotic family, she knew she would find no sympathy from him. She was placed in the charge of a stony-faced, red-bearded older warrior—apparently named Callum, although he’d not spoken a word to her—who bore a strong resemblance to young Malcolm. If it was his father, as she suspected, he’s apparently taken her tricking of Malcolm personally.
Within a few minutes, she was plopped up on the saddle before him, and they were on their way. To where, she could only guess. She wished she’d paid more attention on the journey south from Kildrummy with Sir Humphrey. Her head had been filled with romantic fantasies (which seemed especially cruel in light of what had just happened), and she hadn’t taken note of many landmarks. She’d seen so many churches and castles, they’d all started to blur. She knew the general location of the major burghs and cities, but she doubted the rebels would go anywhere near those. By her best estimation, they were northwest of Norham and Berwick in the hills and forests, headed west into more of the same.
She knew Bruce and his men controlled the countryside and operated from their base in the Ettrick Forest…
Her heart dropped. Good God, was that where they were going? Rosalin didn’t believe in ghosts, but the stories of Bruce’s phantoms who reputedly had their lair in the vast Royal Forest made her wonder. Her brother’s men would be hard-pressed to follow them into such hostile and dangerous territory.
Which made the need to escape as soon as possible even more imperative. But as she could not do so without Roger, she would have to bide her time. They could not ride halfway across the Borders to Ettrick without resting.
She hoped. But these men looked tough and rugged, and used to riding bone-jarring and bottom-numbing distances. They’d probably pick up the horses and carrythemwhen they got tired.
